Harry Potter Time for Healing
by HeroesNeverLive
Summary: Post Battle of Hogwarts. Harry's interaction with the other supporting characters. Special focus on the effects the war had on them. I will try to keep this as close to the canon that has been set by the books. Will include H/G eventually Speaking of which all characters and the Harry Potter Universe are not mine. Special thanks to J.K. Rowling for creating this amazing universe.
1. Chapter 1

Picking Up the Pieces

So this is war… thought Harry as he looked around the broken and shattered remains of Hogwarts. What once was the closest thing to a home for him now laid in ruins. All that had been lost weighed heavily down on his shoulders. Every broken brick, shattered window, and life lost made the weight more oppressing. As if chains had been wrapped tightly around him, slowly constricting and making it harder to breathe.

He slowly descended what used to be the main stairway of the castle onto the front lawn. Students that had been reunited with family and loved ones had gathered outside to set up tents as a place to stay and a refuge for those who's common room had been destroyed. It was hard to believe that nearly 12 hours ago Voldemort marched through these grounds with his army, brandishing a dead Harry Potter like a victory flag.

Harry felt the familiar sensation of eyes on him. Always. Since he first came to this school 7 years ago he always had the same feeling that he was being carefully inspected by those surrounding him. "The Boy Who Lived," they called him. This name did not feel totally correct to him. He had not lived. For a moment he had died. He walked into death's arms and let himself be taken. It was there he was given a choice. To move on to the next great adventure, or return to finish what was started so long ago.

Death had sent him on his way with a promise to return someday, like old acquaintances promising to keep in touch. But Harry, unlike his late adversary, Voldemort, did not fear Death's return. Tom Riddle strived to find a way in this world to cheat the stealthy spectre, and had almost succeeded. Were it not for the bravery displayed at Hogwarts, Voldemort's regime would reign. Not just over the World of Magic, but over Muggle population as well. Harry's comrades had assisted him in returning Voldemort to where he belonged, in Death's manor, alongside everyone put there by his own hand. Like a lost relic that has been restored to its rightful owner, Voldemort was back in the embrace of the very thing he had succeeded in cheating for so many years.

"Harry?" a familiar voice was raised behind him. Harry stopped walking and turned towards a tent with an old woman in a terrible green hat with a vulture sitting atop and a coming of age youth, bandaged and scarred, emerging from the shelter and walking towards him.

"Yes, Neville?" Harry asked.

Neville Longbottom held out the Sword of Gryffindor to Harry. "I don't know what to do with it. My gran says Dumbledore left it for you in his will. A friend of hers works at the Ministry." Neville clarified when he saw the look of slight confusion cross Harry's face.

Harry looked closely at Neville. He remembered 7 years ago a boy who was so clumsy and forgetful, he had trouble taking care of a frog. A boy who in their first year had won them the house cup due to his bravery in standing for what was right, even if it was his friends he was standing up to. A boy who very well could have traded shoes with Harry as the chosen one had Voldemort not visited Harry's home all those years ago.

"Walk with me Neville." Harry responded as he took silent strides toward the lake. He ignored the brief look of confusion and hesitation that crossed Neville's face and continued on. Shortly after, he heard the clumsy and heavy steps of his friend approach. They did not say anything. They walked silently in the setting sun along the edge of the lake of Hogwarts, stopping under the same tree Harry saw his father, Sirius, and Lupin sitting under in the Pensieve filled with Snape's memories.

Harry took a seat at the base of the tree looking over the surface of the water. Neville sat next to him, still silent, waiting for Harry to be the first to speak.

"Neville, when you put on the sorting hat all those years ago, what did it say to you?" Harry asked.

"Why? Is it important?" Neville inquired, nervousness still present in his voice.

"Important? Probably not. I am just curious." Harry didn't feel like explaining why he wanted to know the reason Neville was a Gryffindor. It wasn't that he doubted Neville's courage. Quite the opposite. Harry wanted to ensure that Neville understood the significance of him being able to wield that sword, a sword that only a true Gryffindor could call upon in their time of need.

Neville's gaze lowered to the jeweled weapon still cradled in his hands. "It recognized me as a Longbottom. It knew my parents. It said at first glance to everyone else, I would belong to Hufflepuff. A house who's reputation is a refuge for all who don't belong." Neville paused. Harry turned his head to look at him as a single tear glided down his nose. Harry knew Neville probably revisited this thought many times while he was at Hogwarts. A seed of doubt planted inside him that always made him second guess his place amongst his friends. Always wondering if he truly belonged in Gryffindor.

Neville sniffed and continued on. "But then it said I had something that few others possessed. And it so happened that it was a crucial trait of another house…"

"Bravery." Harry finished for him. Neville nodded in acknowledgement.

"It must've sensed my doubt or read my mind or something. I certainly didn't know where it came up with the idea of me being brave. But it talked about my parents, and how I have had to live without them knowing my face or telling me they love me. It acknowledged my desire to talk to them and make them proud. The hat told me that the ideas I had of bravery and courage were wrong. It said I had a big part to play in the near future. It talked about some kind of terrible fortune that would have been mine had another soul not taken the burden. Told me to keep my courage in the coming years and find those who can show me the love my parents were unable to demonstrate. It put me in Gryffindor and that was the end of it."

A tinge of bitterness mixed with doubt hung in the last words Neville spoke. Even after everything that had happened, Harry got the feeling Neville still wasn't too sure of himself.

Harry wanted to change that.

A smile slowly crept up Harry's face as he looked at Neville. "Neville, that hat was right."

Neville wiped the tears from his cheek and looked at Harry. "What do you mean?"

"The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor because of your bravery and courage. Neville, did you ever think about the danger you were facing when we went into the ministry and fought those Death Eaters? Did you think about doing what the Carrows wanted in order to save yourself the pain and torture they put you through? Did you stop and think about what might have happened to you before you rushed to fight Voldemort when you thought I was dead?" Harry asked, his voice rising and still in wonder of the brave wizard before him.

"No… Not really. I mean… I guess those options never occurred to me."

"Exactly! Neville, you were meant to be a Gryffindor! You are one of the bravest wizards I have ever met. Your kindness goes so far beyond normal boundaries. You fight so hard for the ones you love, so hard that you hold no regard to the possibility of you getting hurt in the process. The sorting hat was right. People view bravery and courage the wrong way. They think that in order to be brave you need to fight. They think courage is displayed on the battlefield. Bravery and courage are not exclusive to war but are no less demonstrated by warriors. Dumbledore acknowledged these traits in you in your first year here at Hogwarts, and every year since you have done nothing but prove his assessment correct. You embody the traits that Godric Gryffindor used as the building blocks for our house. That's why you were given the sword from the sorting hat. Because you are a true Gryffindor."

"And that's why the sword must remain here at Hogwarts…" Neville finished, enlightenment touching his face. "So if any true Gryffindor needs a weapon to defend themselves with, this sword will be there."

Harry smiled. "Exactly."

Neville met Harry's gaze and returned the grin. "Blimey, Harry. You sure would make a good headmaster."

Harry laughed. "I think McGonagall has that covered for the many years to come."

"Yeah I suppose so."

They fell silent. A sense of brotherhood resting between them. A result of all they have endured together. Of all the people at Hogwarts, Neville was one of the few who could empathize with Harry. They both understood how it felt to have parents taken from them.

Neville broke the silence. "Luna kissed me." He turned his head to see Harry's reaction, a cheeky grin pulling at his face.

Harry was stunned with happiness, a smile spread across his face and at a loss for words. He certainly didn't see that coming, but he couldn't deny that the two were perfect for each other. "Well then… Looks like somebody has reached 'stud muffin' status, eh?"

Both let out chuckles. It felt good to laugh again. After all that had happened, happiness seemed foreign and unnatural. Harry welcomed the happiness and soaked it in. It made the weight on his shoulders feel lighter.

Neville stood up and looked down at Harry.

"Thank you for being my friend Harry. And thank you for what you said. After what has happened… We all need the encouragement. All of us. It helps us pick up the pieces of what is left. Hopefully we can create something greater than what was before."

"Thank you, Neville. For everything. I couldn't ask for a better mate than you." Harry replied, fully meaning every word he said.

"I'll see you back at the castle." And Neville began making his way back up the grounds.

Watching Neville go, Harry silently thanked his stars for all those whom he shared the bond of friendship with. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, George, Luna, Neville, Seamus, Dean, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, his professors, and even Kreacher. His mind wandered to those he had lost. Cedric, Sirius, Mad-Eye, Lupin, Tonks, Fred, Dobby, Colin Creevey, his parents… and Snape. The stabbing pain that always accompanied thoughts of these individuals returned, as terrible as ever. But he was comforted with the same thought he had this morning as he entered Dumbledore's office. Happiness will come. Wounds heal, though scars may yet show. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, he could look to tomorrow with a new sense of hope.


	2. Chapter 2

As the sun set over the grounds of Hogwarts, Harry was reminded of just how tired he was. He had been going for nearly 2 days straight without a break. Now that he could finally sit down and relax, he found it hard to even think about getting up. Harry turned his head to see if it was too late to call for Neville and ask to be carried back to the castle.

Unfortunately Neville was no longer in sight. He had probably returned to his Grandmother's tent by now and was enjoying a hot cup of tea. The thought of food and drink stirred Harry's insides. It had been so long since he had indulged in a proper meal. The prospect of warm food ignited a small spark of happiness. He felt if he could dig up one more happy thought he would have enough motivation to move again.

The thought of the Prefect's bathroom and the promise of a bath was what did it. With a great protest from his sore bones and muscles and a groan from Harry's lips, he finally lifted himself from beneath the tree and began to trek back up to the castle, anxious to be reminded of what it felt like to be clean.

Harry took detours in and through the castle. While it pained him to not take the most direct and quickest route to the glorious spa that awaited him, he preferred to avoid people if at all possible. He didn't want to dwell on the tragedy that had occurred here. At least not anymore for today. He needed rest.

Steam rose from the gigantic tub as multicolored bubbles drifted like small, fairytale mountains over the water. Harry slowly lowered his body into the comforting warmth and let out a sigh of relief. As he rested his head on the wall behind him, the thought of falling asleep in this enchanted water filled Harry's chest with joy.

Like his Aunt Marge when the ministry had to rescue her after Harry blew her up like a balloon 4 years ago, his happiness deflated when the sound of the door being shoved open echoed inside the large room. For a split second Harry thought about dunking his head under and hoping the person would leave, but instead he opened his eyes to see who the intruder was and decide if he needed to cut his bath short.

Harry relaxed when he saw it was one of the Weasley twins. He could handle a good friend's company right now. Harry looked at the twin's ear to see if it was Fred or George who stood before him. He now no longer had to guess on which twin he was looking at. He just had to look for the missing ear, complements of Severus Snape

All the weight that he had temporarily shrugged off from the horrors of the battle came crashing back down on him. He remembered a wall of the castle exploding in a flash of light and Fred being thrown off of his feet. He remembered the remnants of a smile on Fred's still face. He remembered that he never had to wonder which twin he was speaking to. The twins didn't exist anymore. There is only George now. Fred is dead.

"Hi ya Harry," said George as he threw his things on a bench and began to undress. "Had the same idea did ya?"

Harry noticed that George quickly avoided eye contact with Harry when he entered into the bathroom. But in that split second that their eyes met, Harry could not help but take in a few details. George's eyes were slightly swollen, his cheeks flushed, his shoulders hunched. The dirt that caked George's face was marred with clean streaks leading from his eyes. George looked weighed down by the myriad of emotions that seemed to be barely contained inside him.

George entered the water from the opposite side of the olympic pool of a tub and immediately submerged himself. Harry sat in silence and watched George busy himself with cleaning his hair and face and scrub behind his ears, even his missing one. Harry knew that George probably wanted to be left alone just as much as he did, but he couldn't let a friend stay a prisoner to his own inner torment without saying something.

"How are you holding up George?" Harry knew there was no need to be tactful. Not with a Weasley.

George stopped his scrubbing and slowly turned towards Harry, but refused to meet his gaze. Harry sorely missed seeing that unwavering, patented Weasley smile the twins so effortlessly brandished. He pushed away the thought that reminded him that he would be seeing one less Weasley smile from now on.

"Me… Well Harry I'm just… I'm…" George mumbled. Harry could never remember a time where the twins were at a loss for words. George lifted his eyes to meet Harry's. Harry's stomach twisted at the pain he could see in those dark pools.

"Honestly Harry, not good," George whispered. He sat opposite of Harry, the water at his chest, watching the bubbles drift by as he spoke. He cleared his throat and continued on, his voice regaining some strength, "I mean, I guess I'm relieved it's finally over, normal life can continue. I don't have to fight death eaters or worry about if I'll make it to tomorrow. But then I remember my brother, my twin, the older brother who has been by my side since birth and has been as much apart of me as my good ear, is now gone. Just as quickly as I had lost my other ear, gone. Just like that. It's just too hard to accept, Harry. It has always been 'Fred and George,'" A single tear ran down George's cheek. "Harry," he was whispering again, "I've never felt so alone."

Harry was fighting back tears. Fred's death seemed to be one ghost that would forever haunt him. He so bad wanted to comfort George but was at a loss of words. "I don't know what to say George." Harry dropped his gaze back to the bubbles. "I want to say something, believe me, but I can't think of anything that doesn't sound empty. I have no idea what you are going through. I can't imagine how this affects you."

George gave a single snort and Harry looked up. The traces of a flat smile slowly returned to George. "Ya know Harry, that's what Fred and I always liked most about you." George said dryly. "You get it. You know there isn't any way you can comfort me, so what do you do? You admit it. I can't tell you how many people have come up to me offering me the same load of rubbish." Changing his voice to a high pitched, squeaky imitation of what seemed to be Delores Umbridge, George went on, "'I'm here for you,' 'If you need someone to talk to, don't hesitate to come to me,' and the worst one is 'I know how you feel.' I don't want comfort, Harry. I want my brother. But that's not possible. So I just wish people would piss off, let me mourn, and leave me to recover on my own. That's all I need and it's not too much to ask I think."

Harry let a slight smile touched his lips. The Weasleys always had a way of speaking their minds. In many situations this proved to be quite disastrous, but in this case it was quite comforting. It felt like everyone was tip toeing on ice, afraid to cause the smallest cracks. People seemed adamant with their ignorance that some of these wounds won't disappear in a day. It was refreshing to be around someone who was comfortable telling it like it was and didn't have a problem being honest.

"I hate feeling so helpless." Harry said after a brief silence. There was so much Harry wanted to say, but all words seemed about as effective as pouring water on a cut. It may wash the blood away, but it won't stop the bleeding. "I wish there was more I could do"

"More?" George asked, looking incredulously at Harry. "Harry, what more can we ask for you? You just defeated the most evil git in history. You saved the world, magical and muggle. You're a hero Harry. How much more could you have given? You died for Merlin's sake! You sacrificed just as much as Fred, then came back to finish what you started. I think you have done enough."

What George said made sense to Harry, but he was still missing the point. All he had accomplished wasn't done on his own. He had help. Help from everyone. Harry was merely the center of the great spider web of resistance against Voldemort. Yet with all that he had done, he still couldn't save everyone. In some ways, Voldemort won. And there was no way to reclaim his victories.

"But… I came back. Fred didn't. We still lost-"

"Yes we lost Fred," George interrupted, "but ya know what? I got another brother back. Percy came back to us." Another single tear ran down George's face again. "For the briefest of moments I had my family again. In times as perilous and crazy as these, I could not have asked for more."

Harry remembered the reunion of the Weasleys in the Room of Requirement. Percy returned as a prodigal son, expecting to be rejected by the family he walked out on. That didn't happen. The Weasley family bond was too strong for that. They welcomed Percy with open and loving arms as a child would with a lost puppy.

"But so much has been destroyed." Harry didn't like to be the one dragging a rain cloud around, but he felt like this win had cost too much. "In all that was accomplished, there were still so many losses, and Fred was one of the few that hit home for me. I'm sure my pain is nothing compared to yours, after all he was your brother. Not just your brother, but your twin. I never had a brother so I don't know what that is like, but in my mind I never could could have imagined losing one of you." Harry was having trouble keeping himself together. After so much pain and heartache, he thought he would have run out of tears by now. He took a deep breath. Steel yourself Harry. Keep it together for just a little longer.

"Well that's just not true." Said George. The smile now apparent on his face.

"What do you mean?" asked Harry, giving no effort in hiding his confusion.

"You were Eleven years old when you boarded the Hogwarts Express for the first time. Who was the first person you met?"

"Ron," answered Harry, recalling that trip and how they shared Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans.

"Ron," Confirmed George. "And you two were inseparable from then on. Well, maybe not inseparable. You both had a few times when you guys were acting like little wankers, sure, but other than that you were two of a kind. And from that moment on we had an honorary Weasley added to the family. Yeah you may be missing the signature red hair, and the dashing good looks are noticeably absent, but all in all, you are just as much my brother as Fred was. If anyone can empathize with me, it is you. You lost a brother, Harry. He was as much your family as ours. Harry James Weasley Potter is how you will be remembered to the world. It's just how it is, and you should be proud of that. We sure are."

Harry let a the corners of his mouth meet the few tears that had flowed down his cheeks. For the longest time Harry thought that Voldemort took his family from him. This was true for the Harry Potter before Hogwarts. But the family he had now could never be destroyed. It could never be taken from him like his parents were.

"Thanks." Said Harry. "You guys sure do mean a lot to me. I'm happy to call you my family."

"Oh shut it." Said George, rolling his eyes at Harry with his smile shining almost as bright as it used to. "Don't be getting all mushy on me. We get enough of that from mum."

Harry laughed. All of what George said was true. Sirius was as good as a father to him, but with him gone Arthur and Molly Weasley did an almost complete job at filling that void. He loved them all for that. They were his family. All of them. Arthur, Molly, Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Ron… Ginny…

"How are the rest of your family taking it?" Harry asked.

"You mean how's Ginny?" George corrected, drawing out a ruddy complexion from Harry.

"Well… Yeah, sure. But I mean it. How is everyone else?"

"My mum is doing well. You know how she is. She keeps busy to keep her mind occupied. Started making funeral arrangements. I'm sure by now dad has been able to sit her down and get a handle on how she's doing and talk it out. The sooner she faces it the better. Bill, Charlie, and Fleur are helping prepare the dead for burial and comfort those who lost loved ones. With Fleur being part Veela, she kind of has a gift for that sort of thing. Percy has been asked by Shacklebolt to help restore order to the ministry. You shoulda seen his face when Kingsley came to him. Lit up like Yaxley when Lee and I cast an incendiary hex on him. Ron has Hermione. She's probably lost the least from this war. Her parents are safe and she and Ron have plans to go looking for them and restore their memory. I think Ron just wants to get away. You know better than anyone that that's his defense to everything. Getting some distance from home will help him clear his head. That and Hermione's common sense.

"All in all, everyone is keeping busy. We will deal with Fred's death in our own way after the dust settles. As for Ginny," George hoisted himself out of the tub and began to dry himself off. "She's been doing the best actually. While our family is running around trying to recover and comfort everyone else, she's the one to comfort us. She's always been the toughest. Funny that mum always wanted a girl, but when she finally got one, it ended up being the toughest Weasley to walk through Hogwarts." Harry chuckled at the truth that had been spoken.

George had finished drying himself and putting on dry, clean clothes. Picking up his things, he gave one last look at Harry, "I know you're as good as a brother to me, but Ginny is my sister, and that makes her special. Treat her right."

Harry's smile faltered. Ginny was certainly one of the few constants on his mind the past few months. His mind often wandered to all the times they shared, from their encounter with Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, to the few moments that his lips met hers. George was right. Ginny was one of a kind and Harry chastised himself for not realizing it before.

"Oh and Harry?" George paused, his hand on the bathroom door. Harry looked up and met George's eyes. "I know you have my father's blessing and all, but remember one thing. Everything you do with my sister, I do to you. And I am very comfortable with my body." With a wink and smile to Harry, George pushed the door open and left.

It was typical of George, or any Weasley for that matter, to totally forego the intimidation tactic most families take to with the romantic interest of their daughter and instead opt for a more… disturbing alternative.

Nevertheless, Harry couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. Just earlier today people were dying around him, and now he was worrying himself with childish teenage romance. He felt insensitive to all those whom he had lost. All the lives laid down willingly to secure a safe and promising future. A future that Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, Sirius, and so many more would never see. It wasn't fair.

Harry was buried so deep in his thoughts he didn't remember drying off, getting dressed, and making his way back up to the Gryffindor common room. The room was miraculously untouched in the battle. The Ravenclaws weren't so lucky. Ravenclaw tower had been victim to a boulder launched by a giant. The tower was obliterated. The Hufflepuffs had graciously donated their common room as a refuge for the wounded. Its close proximity to the kitchens was ideal for the recovery of Madam Pomfrey's patients. Luna and the other students of the two houses had to stay in the tents set up on the grounds or inside what was left of the great hall. Once again Harry thanked his stars for his good fortune as he sat down on the couch facing the fireplace.

Good fortune… Harry mused to himself. Why him? Why was he the one that luck smiled on? Why wasn't Fred fortunate enough to be a few additional feet away from the castle wall? Why wasn't Colin Creevey lucky enough to survive? Why couldn't Lupin and Tonks have survived to see their son again. And yet so many Death Eaters are still alive, some even escaped. Was there no value to innocent lives? Did death find pleasure in claiming the few souls who deserved to live? Why was this game of life so unfair!?

Harry could not stop the sobs from escaping. As he slouched deeper into the couch and his chin sank into his chest, Harry let the tears flow freely for the first time in months. He kept telling himself that healing would come, happiness would return, he would recover, but right now he let the hopelessness overtake him.

Voldemort was gone, but the damage he had done still showed. The blows dealt by him and his death Eaters had left invisible wounds that would not heal fast enough, and the pain caused by them was everlasting.

Harry closed his eyes and let the pain overtake him. After holding it all in for so long, in a twisted sort of way, it felt good to release it all. He was glad to feel something, even pain as agonizing as this. Harry doubted that now he had given in to the pain, nothing would bring him out.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and the weight of someone sitting next to him on the couch. He didn't need to open his eyes to know who it was. Only one person had ever touched him so gently. Only one person had comfort radiate from her fingertips the way she did. Ginny.

Ginny laid her head on Harry's shoulder, running the fingers of one hand through his hair and the other on his chest. She didn't say anything. For now, there was nothing to say. She watched the flames dance and the logs crack and pop, holding the Boy Who Lived, broken and damaged, in her arms.

Harry didn't know how long they had been sitting there. When he finally opened his eyes the fire had dimmed down to mere coals, but Ginny was still there. He turned his head to look at her. Her ginger hair, its brilliance magnified in the light of the dying fire, mesmerized him. Feeling his movement she lifted her head and looked at him. Taking in his shaggy, unkept hair. His lightning scar. His brilliant green eyes. Everybody who knew his parents said he has his mother's eyes. She must have been a painfully beautiful woman, because only Harry's gaze could make her heart hurt the way it did at this moment.

They did not break eye contact. His green eyes meeting her brown, they drank in each other's presence. Only she could lighten the heaviness in his heart while only he could make her broken pieces whole.

"Hey," Said Ginny, breaking the still silence that had gone undisturbed for minutes.

"Hey," Replied Harry, wiping his face and nose on his sleeves. "You doing ok?"

"Hanging in there. Taking it one step at a time. You?"

She didn't need to ask. She knew he was struggling. They both were. The fierce battle raging inside him showed on his face, in how he carried himself, even in how he spoke to her. She was fighting a battle of her own but it was hers and hers alone to fight. Ginny was managing. Her battle was being won. She was overcoming. Harry was not.

"I… I just want this day to be over." Harry answered truthfully

"Then let's get you to bed." Said Ginny as she stood and took Harry's hand to lead him to his dormitory. Ginny took one step expecting Harry to follow, but he resisted. Ginny turned around to see him still on the couch looking at her with those magnificent eyes. "What?" She asked, willing her knees not to buckle beneath his gaze.

"I don't want to be alone tonight… I- I don't want you to leave…" Harry whispered, embarrassed by how needy and weak he sounded, but still terrified at the thought of the nightmares that awaited him.

Ginny kneeled in front of him, the coals of the nearly extinguished fire giving her silhouette an angelic glow and making her even more beautiful. Harry didn't think that was possible.

"I won't." She whispered back, a grin tugging at the edge of her mouth.

The world stopped. As Ginny slowly leaned her head forward, time moved in slow motion. The flames in the fireplace jumped back to life lighting the room. Harry's heart hammered against his rib cage. Ginny began to feel light headed. They both leaned forward, their lips aching to meet each other. They stopped less than a breath apart, both struggling to remain in control of getting air into their lungs. Finally, with the slightest motion from them both, they leaned forward and kissed.

The kiss was soft, yet the mightiest dragon could not breathe fire to compare to the flame that burned between these two young people. It was gentle, but the passion and desire emanating from them was palpable. While they were both unsure that it was love they were experiencing, they knew one thing. After months of living in a world of uncertainty, this kiss was real.

Ginny slowly raised herself up from her kneeling position and straddled Harry, simultaneously sliding her tongue from the threshold of her mouth into his in desperate hope of deepening the kiss. After so long he was finally here, in her arms once more. Her hands wandered up his chest and around his neck seeking to prevent this kiss from being broken. But as fate was all too keen to remind them in the recent months, happy moments could not last forever.

The kiss was broken reluctantly and once again their eyes were locked to each other. Ginny stood once more and began walking to the stair case that led up to Harry's dormitory. This time, Harry followed. After they reached the top and walked to the edge of his bed, Harry saw they were not alone. Sound asleep in the bed next to his were the bodies of his two best friends. Ron, spread lazily across his mattress, and Hermione, cradled protectively in his arms.

Harry smiled at the pair as Ginny drew back the covers of his bed and motioned for him to get in. Harry dropped his robe so he was wearing just his shorts and a shirt and climbed in and got settled. Ginny did the same, cuddling close next to him so he could feel the warmth of her breath on his neck and the chill of her feet on his legs. Harry would not have it any other way than this.

As he reached over to pull the curtains to his four-poster bed he saw a pair of eyes shine in the moonlight that filtered through the window, staring him down. Hermione smiled at him and give him a wink before cuddling closer to Ron and closing her eyes, returning to whatever dream she had been having. Harry drew the curtains and fell into his bed. The feeling of Ginny's hair between his fingers and the sound of his best friends' breathing lulling him to sleep.


End file.
